


deck the halls

by prowlish



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Best Friends, Christmas Fluff, Friendship, Fun, Gen, Gift Exchange
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-26
Updated: 2015-12-26
Packaged: 2018-05-09 14:17:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5543009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prowlish/pseuds/prowlish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rodimus felt it was the right time for festivities, and Drift is only too happy to join him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	deck the halls

**Author's Note:**

> Secret Solenoid gift for SilverXenomorph! Hope you like it, and I hope you had a good and safe holiday! :)

The advantage to having the captain of the ship as your best friend was that it somewhat legitimized all of the activities undergone with him. 

_Somewhat._ Rodimus didn’t get away with everything, but most people who grumbled couldn’t do anything about it, and, well -- with Drift back on board, there seemed to be a consensus between Megatron and Ultra Magnus to let _him_ entertain Rodimus and his boundless energy and optic for mischief.

Drift didn’t mind it a bit. He’d missed Rodimus, and had given him every reassurance needed. Leaving had been his idea, after all, but Rodimus clearly blamed himself for not having all the answers to the tough spot they’d been in after Overlord’s rampage.

And Drift thought he was the expert on guilt!

To Drift, the important part was that he was back, and they could pick up where they left off -- happy in a friend’s company. Or, in Drift’s current state, happy while waiting on a friend’s company. Rodimus had promised some fun (which usually meant trouble, but for both of them the line was rather blurred) and told Drift to wait outside his door.

He hoped Rodimus would hurry, because his engine was humming with the promise of fun and there were only so many ways he could wait outside of captain’s quarters, looking a little bouncy and over energetic, without attracting too many stares. It wasn’t really the attention that bothered him, but the fact that he had too much energy and had to sit still.

Finally, he turned on his heel, planning to knock on the door and try to hurry Rodimus, when it finally opened with a _woosh_ and revealed Rodimus carrying an armload of… stuff. Drift squinted. There was a lot of bright colors and glitter and every manner of thing that Ultra Magnus would regard as too festive or gaudy.

But a smile slowly crooked Drift’s lips. He’d seen these kinds of decorations before… but a long ways away from here. “What are you planning?” he asked.

A few ribbons tumbled out of Rodimus’s arms, but he looked no less determined. “We’re gonna make this ship merry and bright,” he declared.

\---

"You look ridiculous."

Drift looked up, and he could feel the ribbons on his finials fluttering. Rodimus had made an ornate bow out of their leftover decorations, attached it to Drift's helm, and insisted on it staying there. So this remark understandably brought a little snort of laughter from the white mech. "And whose fault is that?"

Rodimus just grinned.

Drift shook his helm, feeling the ribbons flutter around his head again. It brought a chuckle from Rodimus as Drift snorted again. "Besides... so do you."

That was also true, seeing how Rodimus was almost entirely covered in glitter. The ship's captain -- or co-captain, he supposed it was now -- peered down at his frame, then back up to meet Drift's gaze.

It took just two seconds for them to burst into laughter.

They'd ended up spending the whole of their off-shift 'decorating' the Lost Light in the style of the human celebration of Christmas. On Earth, it would be about that time of year. Most of the ship thought they were being ridiculous -- Magnus and Megatron especially -- and maybe they were, but Drift couldn't deny simple, good fun like this. 

Not when the day had been full of events, including but not limited to: taking turns standing on each other’s shoulders to run streamers down the halls and getting wobbly around passersby (there was almost certainly more mechs on the Lost Light now than Rodimus who had gotten some glitter splatter); Skids joining in for a little bit and hanging ornaments all along the ceiling panels he could reach from his vents; using quick-adhesive to stick a Santa hat on an unsuspecting Whirl; running through the halls having a fake snowball fight with fake snow, some of which definitely landed on Magnus’s office door -- and on the mech himself; and very nearly running Rung over with the rolling cart they had borrowed-slash-commandeered from the medibay.

It felt good to smile and laugh and be silly with Rodimus. He'd never had the opportunity to be so lighthearted at any other time in his life -- he hoped that could get across to Rodimus, too. But at this point, he wasn't going to bring anything like that up. He just wanted to continue in this warm, friendly feeling.

"Yeah," Rodimus finally said, bringing Drift out of his thoughts. "I'm gonna get cleaned up. You should... find a mirror," he teased, elbowing Drift with a glimmer in his optics.

"Oh yeah, sure," Drift replied, nudging Rodimus back with an easy smile.

Snickering, Rodimus trotted off down the hallway, and Drift watched him go with that feeling in his spark: this is how it was supposed to be with them.

\---

Later, de-ribboned and free of glitter, they were wedged in a booth at Swerve's. Despite how most mechs had rolled their optics about it, the crew was still on board with any reasons to have a celebration -- which meant a packed bar for Swerve. If they were going by the Christmas standard, it was probably the best gift they could've given him.

If he was honest, Drift was surprised that Rodimus wasn't in the middle of the attention. There was some dancing going on, plenty of drinking games, and he was sure if they paid attention to some darker corners, they'd likely see more of their crewmates than they might want to. But the vibe was good, and Drift was enjoying the time with Rodimus.

"For a bunch of bots that wanted to be Scrooges, they sure are enjoying themselves, huh?" 

Drift laughed at that. "Ah, I'm glad they are, though," he said, leaning his chin into his hand.

Rodimus smiled. "Yeah," he agreed. And Drift could feel it, the gentle warmth in Rodimus's field, the smile on his lips; there'd never been any doubt that Rodimus cared about his crew, but if only the naysayers could have a peek at this moment.

At the same time, Drift wanted to keep it to himself, another of those special, happy memories that he'd get to indulge in, now that he was back home.

He blinked. Home. That thought had crept in, but it was true, wasn't it? Nothing on Cybertron had ever given him the feeling of nostalgia and warm comfort that sitting in a booth at Swerve's did, or standing on the bridge for a duty shift, or hanging around the medibay to pick at Ratchet.

"How about that," he murmured to himself.

"What's that?" Rodimus said, finally looking away from the celebrations.

Drift smiled. "Nothing," he said. He held up his hands in a surrender sign when Rodimus squinted. "I'll tell you later," he promised. He didn't know if he could word himself properly, anyway.

Rodimus didn’t seem entirely satisfied with that, but he seemed to get over it as he sat up straighter in his booth and nudged Drift’s shoulder. “Hey, c’mon, I wanna show you something,” he said, starting to stand. 

Drift was already moving to follow, even as he teased, “What, no dance floor for you?”

Rodimus flashed a brief smirk back at Drift. “They’ve seen me dance,” he replied.

Well, that was true. Shaking his helm, Drift followed as Rodimus tugged at his elbow now. “Alright, alright, I’m coming,” he said, taking one last glance at the scene in Swerve’s before allowing himself to be led away.

\---

Drift was told to wait again for the second time this day, but at least he was sitting on Rodimus’s berth as he did so. Rodimus was shuffling through a drawer in his desk, which clearly saw little use. It was clear he had found what he’d wanted, but was… Drift squinted, but he sat up straight and put on an innocent face when he heard a soft _snap_ and Rodimus turned around. There was a little box in his hands, which brought another curious look from Drift. 

“Here,” he said, holding the box out. Drift accepted it, turning it over in his hands, before looking back up at Rodimus. Rodimus shifted, his energy clearly nervous, so Drift decided not to make him wait anymore, so he pulled open the box on its single hinge. 

Drift blinked into it, and before he could formulate a response, Rodimus was already talking -- “I kept it,” he said. “I wasn’t sure if you’d want it back, but I overheard Magnus say something about requalification for you and…” He shrugged.

It was an Autobot sigil -- or his, rather, from what Rodimus had said. Kept from when he’d stripped it in front of the crew when Drift had taken the blame for the Overlord conspiracy. Drift felt a tightness in his spark, a warmth -- and he didn’t know quite what to say, so he offered Rodimus a little smile. “I haven’t exactly requalified yet,” he replied.

Rodimus gave him a relieved smile. “Hey, I’ve got a good feeling,” he said.

“From Ultra Magnus?”

Rodimus put his hands on his hips. “Look, if he’s going to let _Megatron_ run around wearing an Autobot brand, I’m sure he’ll figure on you qualifying to wear yours again.”

Drift chuckled a little at that. He closed the box gently and tucked it into his subspace. “Thank you,” he said, snagging Rodimus’s hand and tugging him down into a little hug. He felt even more content when Rodimus finally relaxed and returned the embrace.

As if to steer away from the conversation they’d had too many times, Rodimus plopped next to him on the berth and said, “So what was it you were muttering to yourself about in Swerve’s?”

Drift pressed his lips together as he thought. “Just that… I guess I finally knew what coming home felt like,” he said. “I never had a place to call home on Cybertron, so…” He shrugged, feeling a little foolish. Rodimus was quiet, looking contemplative again.

“You really mean that?”

Drift glanced over at him, trying on another smile. “Yeah.”

Rodimus met his gaze and smiled in return, grabbing Drift’s hand and looking like he was having trouble figuring out what to say next. Drift was just about to break the silence again when Rodimus squeezed his hand. “It’s good to have you home.” Then, as if he couldn’t let it be so serious, he added, “I think this qualifies as the best Christmas ever.”

Drift could only grin.

**Author's Note:**

> visit me on [@prowlish](https://twitter.com/prowlish) on twitter!! :)


End file.
